Doorstep discussions
by TheBritishBourbon
Summary: John and Sherlock have a thoughtful conversation on the steps outside 221B. Set post HLV. That summary sucks, I'm sorry. rated K to be safe.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock**

**Enjoy reading! (I'll put an author's note at the end again.)**

* * *

**Doorstep discussions**

It was a crisp night, and Sherlock sat upon the stony steps outside 221B Baker Street, smoking a cigarette and observing the small stream of traffic and pedestrians that went past. Inside, 221B was bustling. John denied everything, Mary tried to placate him, Mrs Hudson looked to him for reassurance that this was not real, Mycroft phoned various important people in order to ensure them that it had to be a hoax, Lestrade looked stressed.

Moriarty was back.

Back.

Possibly.

It had been hours since his face was first broadcast all over Britain, hours since Sherlock had had to descend once again from the plane, returning in order to face the one man (no, not man: _spider_) he had thought he would never have to face again. Sherlock snorted in derision at himself, taking a drag on his cigarette, _'We don't even know if he's back'_. The possibility of this being a hoax was rather high, but it would have to be a very good hoax. Mycroft's team had been searching all that time for the source of the feed with no results. This was confirming Sherlock's suspicions minute by minute. You'd have to be a very clever goldfish to hide from Mycroft.

There was a small, okay, moderate part of Sherlock's mind that was almost….glad that Moriarty may have returned. In Sherlock's opinion, he was a better class of criminal than Magnussen. _'Ugh, Magnussen. Delete, delete!' _Magnussen had been clever, but Sherlock preferred spiders to sharks.

But then again….there was anger in the shaking of Sherlock's hand as he raised the cigarette to his mouth once again. If Moriarty was back then those two years had been-

"Sherlock?" Sherlock jumped as he was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of John's voice. He looked up to see John stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest and peering concerned down at Sherlock. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." Sherlock turned to the street once again. John sat down next to him, making him shuffle to the left a little so that they both fitted on the steps.

"I thought you'd quit."

Sherlock looked at John. "Hmm?"

John indicated the cigarette. "Oh. Well, it's almost a new year."

"Only….five minutes to go, actually." John said with surprise, peering at his watch. "Funny how time flies when you're tracking down psychopaths."

Sherlock did not reply, just continued smoking, his hand still shaking.

"How, Sherlock, how? He shot himself in the head!"

Sherlock smirked sardonically, "Maybe it was just a magic trick." Many times had he replayed that moment out in his Mind Palace, and many times he looked for something, anything that said 'Wrong!'

John froze at these words, and stared at Sherlock with vexation, shaking his head in disbelief. He had taken a breath to reprimand him when he noticed Sherlock's shaking hands. He frowned.

"Sherlock what-"

"Has Mycroft gotten any further with his…investigation?" Sherlock interrupted.

John hesitated before answering, "Err, no. No, I think he's just reassuring people that this is all a hoax."

"Possibly."

"Yeah well let's hope so."

Sherlock looked up at John then, and John was taken aback by the look in his eyes that John could only guess was agitation.

"Sherl-"

"If he really is back, John, then those two years destroying his network were…pointless!" He shook his head, and chucked his cigarette to the ground.

John looked at Sherlock, able to read his thoughts, knowing Sherlock would not go so far emotionally as to express all that he was feeling. John knew what Sherlock had done and gone through in those two years, he had been reluctant to tell him but he had in the end: dingy hotel rooms, more danger than normal, death threats almost being followed through. If Sherlock had experienced all of that and then it had all been in vain….well, John knew he would be pissed off.

"Sherlock, we don't know for sure yet if this is real and if it is, then why didn't he stop you from destroying his network, hmm?"

"Moriarty's clever, he would-"

"No, listen. Just listen. You defeated some of the most….dangerous criminal minds in Moriarty's arsenal. If, and only if, he was back, he's not going to be in a very strong position is he?"

"But-"

"No, shut up. Shut up, and for once just agree with me."

Sherlock did not agree to agree, but John could see his words had done some good. He seemed less tense. A comfortable silence followed for a few minutes, in which Sherlock observed pedestrians and John gathered his words. Telling Sherlock to shut up was not the reason he had come out into this _bloody freezing_ night.

"Shouldn't you be with Mary?" Sherlock asked, still staring at a woman talking animatedly on her phone.

"She was the one who told me to come out here, actually. There's something I have to say…"

Sherlock turned to John, a questioning look on his face.

"Magnussen..." John began, and Sherlock looked away. John could see shame (and…was that sadness?) on his face (_'Christ Sherlock's got his defences down today'_ ). "Killing him was probably the bravest thing you've done and..."

"Was just returning the favour." John smiled at that nod towards the cabbie; their first case together.

"You had already returned the favour, Sherlock. You saved my life by giving me a new one." He paused for a moment. "But then you did kinda screw it up a bit." Those 2 years had been the worst time of his life since he had been shot. Sherlock looked even more ashamed.

"I know, I'm sorry."

John shook his head in disbelief at his best friend, and smiled a little with pride. "You don't have to keep apologising. I know why you did it and I do forgive you. I also know why you did what you did to Magnussen. It was to protect Mary, wasn't it? And me, and our baby."

Sherlock looked sideways at him, sitting up a little straighter. "Perhaps."

John chuckled. "Perhaps. Sherlock..." He waited until Sherlock looked at him, directly in the eyes. "Thank you. Thank you for all you've done. It could not have been easy."

"No, it wasn't." Sherlock finally admitted. Giving up his job and his livelihood had been even harder then jumping off the roof of St. Bart's.

"Then I thank you even more, you bloody brave idiot." Both Sherlock and John chuckled then, John patting Sherlock on the back in manly affection. Sherlock felt so much lighter.

John's watch suddenly beeped, and he peered down at it to welcome in the New Year.

"Happy New year….William." He said, turning to Sherlock with a grin.

Sherlock glared at him and replied a moment after, "Happy new year, Hamish."

John laughed.

* * *

**Authors Note:**

**So that was my second fanfiction! Hope you liked it and thank you for reading it! I tried once again to try and keep characters a realistic as possible and hopefully it's paid off. feel free to review or, if you have any other suggestions of what not then send me a PM.**

**Btw the mention to Sherlock telling John about his 2 yrs away was going to be something I think I'm going to put in a multi chapter fic, just FYI!**

**Happy Reading! TheBritishBourbon x**


End file.
